


Offer Your Throat to the Wolf

by BeniMaiko



Series: Trite Tropes, but I Love Them Anyway [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Has Issues, First Time, M/M, Mark - Freeform, Marking, Marks, Neck fetish, Obsessed Derek, Stalking, Stiles and Scott are bros, always lock your phone, neck kink, necks as werewolf porn, scott wants brain bleach, sexy pictures, sterek, stiles is hot to werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeniMaiko/pseuds/BeniMaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles discovers that Derek has a neck kink. More specifically, a Stiles' neck kink.<br/>Tropes include: kink discovery, voyeurism,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offer Your Throat to the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Offre ta gorge au loup](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697455) by [Thecrasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecrasy/pseuds/Thecrasy)



> This comes from the idea that werewolves find necks sexy. And Stiles has one hell of a sexy neck.

Scott blushed deep red from the top of his chest to the tips of his ears. “Oh my God, Stiles! I don’t want to see pictures of you like that. Ugh. I need brain bleach.” The wolf pushed Stiles hand away from him and covered his eyes. “I’m never gonna be able to unsee that. Jeeeeeez.”

Stiles was confused as hell. Scott was acting like he had just shown the guy dick pics instead of one of the very _extensive_ collection of _Stiles_ pics on Derek’s phone.

The phone must have dropped out of Derek’s pocket when he swung out of the younger man’s bedroom window the night before. When Stiles tried to call the wolf about the results of the requested research, it had buzzed softly in the quiet room.  He had found it resting against his carpet just a few minutes before Scott arrived to play Halo.

Of course the Sourwolf didn’t lock his phone. Of course Stiles had snooped. The only odd thing he’d found was a folder full of pictures of himself. The first pic in the folder had been of his neck. He could tell it was his neck because of all the moles.

Why would Derek have so many photos of Stiles’ neck? Well, not just his neck.  His neck, his throat, the tops of his shoulders. The photos were from all different directions and in many different settings.

Some of the pictures were dimly lit. There was a series of close ups of the side of Stiles neck as he slept with his head resting on the back of the sofa during pack movie night. The sleeping position didn’t actually look that comfortable. His neck was arched pretty far back making the tendons pop out from the skin.

There were many photos that had obviously been taken during pack training time. There must have been a dozen shots of him holding cold water bottles against his neck to cool off. Stiles had no idea how often he did that until seeing photographic evidence. He also thought that maybe he needed to work out more. In almost all of those pictures, he was sweaty and flushed, panting with his mouth open. It was embarrassing.

A couple of pictures were of the back of his neck from when he was sitting with his head hanging down to his chest. His fingers were carded through the hair on the back of his head, rubbing the goose egg from lacrosse practice. He remembered because Derek had leached the pain right after he apparently took these pictures.

All in all, there were several _dozen_ photos of Stiles on the phone; most of them focused on the young man’s neck. It was _weird._

That was why he had decided to show them to Scott. Stiles really wanted to know if it was some sort of wolfy thing or if it was just a Derek thing. “Hey! What the hell Scott. Why are you freaking out?”

Stiles looked again at the last picture he had chosen to show Scott. In his opinion it was one of the more normal photos. In it, Stiles was laughing at something off camera. His head was thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut. His cheeks were a little flushed, and he looked slightly embarrassed. He looked happy.

He couldn’t tell exactly when the picture had been taken, but it must have been fairly recently based on the length of his hair.

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with this picture?” Stiles asked. He tried to hold it out to Scott again, but the wolf refused to look at it.

“Why do you even have pictures of yourself like that?” Scott muttered, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes with his own.

The human shrugged. “I don’t. This is Derek’s phone,” he answered.

Scott’s head whipped up and he glared at his friend. “That’s Derek’s phone. I’m gonna kill him,” he growled.

Stiles was shocked. What the hell was Scott’s problem? They were just pictures and one short video of him drinking a bottle of soda. They weren’t of Stiles naked or of his dick. They were all taken in the open. It wasn’t like Derek was a peeping Tom. “Alright, Scott. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s just _wrong,_ Stiles. Derek never should have been looking at you like that… and to take pictures. It’s perverted,” Scott muttered, still blushing.

Stiles shook his head and crossed his arms. “You’ll have to explain better than that, bro. How exactly is it perverted?”

The wolf sighed. “Necks are different to wolves. Showing your neck in submission, marking a mate, scenting… All of that makes a neck special. Vulnerable. You have to really trust someone to bare your throat. For wolves, flashing your neck like that is like… I don’t know… a girl showing cleavage or a guy showing off his bulge.” He side eyed his friend. “And you have kind of a long neck. It’s like you have an enormous bulge.”

Stiles was shocked. “Am I supposed to start wearing douchey scarves or turtlenecks?”

Scott rapidly shook his head. “No. No. You’re fine, but Derek should not have taken those photos. It’s rude. Like, how would you have felt if it was a bunch of shots of your crotch? You aren’t supposed to wear baggy pants all the time. People aren’t supposed to look, and they are especially not supposed to take pictures.”

The wolf rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’ve gotta go. I need to get your crotch shot… I mean neck shot… I mean, just ugh. I need to clear my head.”

Stiles sat down on the edge of his bed and began to swipe through the photos with this new information in mind. SO, Derek was obsessed with his long neck, aka his enormous bulge. Even thinking of the pics that way, Stiles didn’t get a creepy vibe from them.

Scott had only seen a few of the photos before his freak out. Maybe he simply assumed the worst of Derek. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Mixed in with the pictures of Stiles’ neck were some full body shots. In many of these, he had his head thrown back or was touching his throat, but in some he wasn’t doing anything in particular. He was smiling or simply sitting. In one he was reading with a small frown on his face.

Stiles decided that he would ask Derek about the pictures before jumping to any conclusions. He left the phone on the corner of his desk and laid down to do some reading until it was time to start making dinner.

Naturally, he fell asleep. When he woke, his head was twisted to the side and he knew his neck was gonna hurt from the strained position. He groaned as he rolled his head upright and startled when he saw Derek sitting in his computer chair, watching him sleep.

Stiles lurched upright and demanded, “What are you doing?”

Derek didn’t even blink. “I was waiting for you to wake up,” he answered calmly. He was holding his phone in his hand. “I can delete them if you want.” His eyes shifted to the phone as he frowned. He sounded sad as he added, “I didn’t even realize how many there were until Scott tracked me down to yell at me about my ‘creepy and perverted’ collection.”

Stiles heart sped up as he nervously asked, “Why do you take them? Is Scott right? Are they _dirty_ pictures?”

The wolf blushed. His skin flushed warm up his chest and neck to his face. It was adorable.

“Some of them. Maybe. I didn’t mean to. Most of them are just pictures of when I thought you looked really beautiful, but a few of them,” he cleared his throat. “Some of them cross the line. I’m sorry.”

Derek thought Stiles was beautiful. _Beautiful._ As in, not a skinny loser. As in, not ugly with a funny nose and covered in spots. Holy crap. Derek Hale thinks _Stiles Stilinski_ is **beautiful**!!!

The smaller man patted the space next to him on the bed. “Will you show me the ones you think cross the line?” He could feel the heat of his own blush climbing his neck.

The wolf's eyes snapped to Stiles’ in surprise. “You want to look at them together?”

Stiles could see the faint glimmer of hope in the green, blue, whatever color eyes across from him. Derek moved to the bed and opened the picture folder on his phone. He swiped through a few before hesitating on one. He whispered, “This one,” and handed the phone to the younger man.

 _Oh._ It was definitely a picture of Stiles neck. He had his throat stretched out with his head pulled to the side. He was lightly tracing his fingers over a purple mark under his jaw as he checked the bruise out in a mirror.

He remembered that bruise. Greenburg had lobbed a lacrosse ball at him and it had caught him just under his face mask on his neck.

Still, he couldn’t understand what, if anything, was _wrong_ about the picture. “I don’t understand. What makes this one different?” he asked.

Derek looked like he wanted a hole to open up under his feet, like he’d rather disappear than talk about the photo with Stiles. The human knocked his shoulder against the larger man’s. “Come on, big guy, it’s OK. Just explain it to me.”

With a heavy sigh, Derek stammered a response. “Your head is tilted to the side. It… _exposes_ the side of your throat, and you have a mark… like _someone_ marked you, and you’re _touching_ it. It looks like the kind of mark someone would leave on you if you were theirs.”

By the time he had finished speaking, Derek’s breathing had sped up and he was covering his eyes with one hand out of embarrassment.

Stiles’ heart was hammering in his chest. “Is that what it would look like if I were _yours_?”

The wolf whined in the back of his throat but nodded his head. “Yes.”

Stiles shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”

Derek slumped and curled in on himself. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t think about you that way. I won’t take any more pictures. I promise.”

The smaller man reached out and touched Derek’s shoulder. “No. I meant that I don’t think it would look like that.” Derek glanced at the human, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Stiles explained, “You have stubble. I have sensitive skin. I would probably have beard burn all along my jawline, and that bruise is kind of small. You would leave a much larger, darker mark. Probably more than one.”

The younger man smiled at the way Derek was staring at his neck with pure longing in his eyes. The wolf licked his lips and hummed, “Yeah. If I marked you, everyone would know you were mine.” He seemed to realize what he was saying and added, “If that’s OK.”

Stiles grinned at Derek. “Well, I don’t want to be some ‘trophy’ neck. I really like you; have for a long time. I want to be yours, but I want you to be mine, too. Can we… be each other’s?”

It was almost heart breaking to see the small, hopeful smile on Derek’s face. Stiles slowly tilted his head back and stretched his neck to the side. He gently touched his index finger to the pulse point in his throat. “Start here,” he whispered.

Without hesitation, Derek lunged at the younger man and pressed his mouth to the spot Stiles had indicated. Low growls and moans accompanied small licks and nibbles to the sensitive skin until Derek sealed his lips to the skin and sucked a deep mark.

It felt like all the blood in Stiles’ body flowed south as his dick swelled and hardened. He clutched at the back of Derek’s head, holding the larger man in place.  “Oh holy crap. Don’t stop. Fuck that feels good!” Stiles let out a wheeze of air as the wolf tightened his hold.

Stiles moaned and shifted his weight until Derek pushed him into the mattress. The larger man was still attached to his neck like a lamprey. The sting of sharp teeth scraping over his skin only added to the pleasure that Derek was inflicting on his neck. Stiles spread his legs wide to cradle the wolf between them. He ground his dick against the larger man and scraped blunt, human fingernails down his back.

Derek pulled off of Stiles’ neck with a wet pop. He rolled his hips down into the boy as he stared at his neck, admiring his work. “Everyone will see. They’re all gonna know what you let me do to you,” he rumbled.

Stiles smirked. “That’s not the only thing I’m gonna let you do to me,” he murmured while pulling his graphic tee off over his head. He tugged at the hem of Derek’s henley until the older man stripped it from his body. Stiles could not resist the urge to run his hands over the werewolf’s broad chest.

Stiles leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the skin on Derek’s neck, just below where his scruff ended. He sucked a bruise, but it faded within moments. “I guess I won’t be able to mark you,” he murmured.

Derek smirked. “You can mark me with your scent.”

Stiles blushed. He knew exactly how he wanted to get his scent on the older man, but he wasn’t sure that the wolf would approve of being coated in cum. Derek probably meant sharing clothes or lots of touching. “How would I do that, exactly?” The quiver in Stiles’ voice gave away his nervousness.

With a rumble, Derek said, “You could do this to me.” He pushed his face against Stiles neck and licked a stripe from collar bone to ear on the younger man’s skin. “Or this,” he continued and dragged his hands down Stiles' sides to his hips holding them in place while he pressed their chests together. A sinuous body roll ground their erections against each other and drew low moans.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to cum in my pants,” Stiles stammered. His impending embarrassment didn’t stop him from licking the wolf’s neck like Derek had demonstrated. He followed up the lick with a nip to the larger man’s ear lobe. “I want to cum _on_ you,” he husked into the suddenly pointy ear.

Stiles had never noticed they were coated in fine, downy fur that ended in tufts at the tips of the wolf’s ears. He puffed hot air across the fur and was delighted by the tremor that shook the large body pressing him into the bed.

Derek buried his face in Stiles’ shoulder and moaned when the younger man bit lightly at one pointy ear tip. “So fucking sexy, Sourwolf.”

“Shtiles…” Derek growled around fangs that were too big for his mouth. He was still rolling their hips together. The sensations zipping from Stiles' groin were nearly overwhelming to the younger man. It took all of Stiles’ will power to push against Derek’s chest, urging the wolf to back away.

“Let me get my jeans off. Please,” he panted, hoping Derek would do the same.

Derek knelt between Stiles’ legs and opened the button and zip of his sinfully tight jeans. As he worked them down his hips, it became clear that he wasn’t wearing any briefs underneath.

As soon as he had stripped out of his pants, Stiles sat back on the bed and began to lazily stroke his own cock.

He was used to how gorgeous Derek was, but he was surprised to find that the wolf’s Beta form was just as attractive. He was willing to admit that the lack of eyebrows was odd, but he found the deep widow’s peak to be seriously sexy. The longer hair on the sides of his face was much softer than it looked, and Stiles had never noticed how the stronger jawline gave him an adorable underbite.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he watched Derek peel off his clothes.

Much to Stiles’ surprise, Derek blushed and slid his gaze away when he heard the younger man’s compliment. “Derek. Look at me,” Stiles demanded. When the wolf was making eye contact again, the smaller man said, “You are beautiful, but more than that, you are a good person. I meant what I said. I don’t want to be just a pretty neck to you, and you are more than a hot, very hot, _ridiculously_ hot body to me. OK?”

Just the corners of Derek’s mouth curled up in a smile. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I not believe you?” He slowly crawled up Stiles’ body until he was nestled between long, pale legs.

Stiles pulled the pillows out from behind his head and threw them on the floor. As the wolf crawled over him, the smaller man tilted his head back, exposing the long column of his neck. He twisted his face slightly to one side, making the tendon pop out under the almost translucent skin. He heard a quiet whine just before Derek scraped fang tips along his neck and shoulder.

Stiles’ hips bucked up off the bed as he rubbed his hard length against Derek’s. He slid his hands along the larger man’s ribs and around his back to grip his shoulders from behind.

Derek was supporting most of his weight on his elbows, but he reached down to guide one of Stiles’ legs around his hip. The human was quick to do the same with the other leg and soon had his ankles hooked behind Derek’s back. He used his grip on Derek’s shoulders to grind himself up against the wolf.

A low, steady rumbling could be felt more than heard from the wolf, who was busy sucking a line of deep bruises into the skin of Stiles’ neck. The smaller man could feel the muscles in Derek’s back bunch and flex as he set up a steady rhythm rubbing their bodies together.

After each mark had been left on the teen’s neck, the older man lifted his head just far enough to admire his work before starting on a fresh spot.

The steady drag and pull of Derek’s skin against his throbbing cock was pushing Stiles ever closer to orgasm. His breath was coming in short panting gasps as he arched from the bed. “Derek! I’m gonna… I need to…”

“Do it, Stiles. Cum for me, please.” Derek whispered encouragement in the teen’s ear and pressed fang tips against the front of Stiles’ throat. The human knew that he could easily impale himself on sharp teeth if he so much as lifted his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and shot streaks of hot jizz all over his belly and Derek’s chest.

Stiles was still trembling when Derek released his bite on the smaller man’s neck and rutted against him until his cum joined Stiles’ on their skin. The larger man collapsed next to Stiles, and his features returned to fully human. For several long minutes, the only sound in the room was the contended rumble from Derek and Stiles’ breathless panting.

Shortly after Stiles caught his breath, he turned his head to look at the wolf. Maybe he expected Derek to look relaxed or blissed out. He would not have been surprised if he was smiling or even scowling, but Stiles could not have anticipated the look of sheer horror that was on Derek’s face.

“What? Oh my God, dude, what? You’re freaking me out!” Stiles had to assume that Derek was regretting what had just happened.

The werewolf reached out tentatively with one hand and gently touched the skin on Stiles’ neck. “I may have gotten a _little_ carried away with the marking. I’m so sorry. Your dad may kill me. Or Scott. I don’t suppose you have an extensive turtleneck collection?”

Stiles huffed a small laugh. “Christ, Derek, you had me worried for a second. How bad could it be?”

If the deep blush that darkened the wolf’s face was any indication, it was pretty bad. Stiles smacked one hand lightly against Derek’s chest. “I’m not getting out of this bed to go look in a mirror. Take a picture with your phone and show it to me.”

Derek scrambled for his phone and aimed its camera toward Stiles. “Umm… tilt your head back a little so I can get it all in frame,” he demanded.

“So bossy,” Stiles replied. He tilted his head back and slightly to the side. He also reached up and pressed his fingertips against a spot that felt particularly sore. As he wet his lips with his tongue, he heard the shutter sound from Derek’s phone.

He immediately reached out his hand and waggled his fingers in a clear ‘gimme’ motion. Derek reluctantly handed over the device.

Stiles stopped breathing for a second before gasping, “Holy shit, Derek.” The picture showed Stiles from the hips up, stretched out on the bed. The entire left side of his neck was a large mass of mottled red and pink blotches. He could tell that the marks were going to darken even more over the next twenty-four hours. There were scrape marks over some of the bruises and onto his shoulder. Small pinpricks of broken skin marred the front of his neck.

Stiles hair was in tangled disarray, his lips were swollen, and a pink flush was on his cheeks and normally pale chest. In other words, Stiles looked completely debauched.

The human quickly e-mailed a copy of the photo to himself. He was going to print out an eight by ten glossy of it and send it to Scott in a frame. He was gonna post it to Facebook and tag all the people who had said he would never get laid. He might even submit it as his senior yearbook photo.

He might have been saying all that out loud since Derek was now growling like a rusty chainsaw. “Or not. I could keep this photo private and never show it to anybody,” he placated the jealous wolf.

Derek sighed and flopped down next to the human, pulling him in against his chest. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want everyone to see that you’re mine; that I marked you, but at the same time, I don’t want _anyone else_ to see you like this. It’s confusing.”

Stiles grabbed a box of tissues off his nightstand and began to clean himself up. “It’s alright, Sourwolf. We’ll figure it out.” He snuggled back into the wolf’s strong arms and fell asleep, smirking.

The next weekend when Scott came over to play CoD, he was confronted by the picture, blown up to poster size, plastered on the wall above the TV.


End file.
